Brochs

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I don’t want to drop any spoilers to the plot of the sequel to Fugue in Ursa Major (which is in progress and which I hope to have in print sometime next year). But Jake does set out on a rather dangerous journey of what I would call cultural recovery.

I have put countless hours of thinking and research into imagining what the world would be like if Christianity had never existed. The church, of course, automatically supposes that it has improved the world. I beg to differ. The church really was just Rome, entangled in the theology of what, except for accidents of history, would have been an obscure (and theologically ordinary, for its time) Middle Eastern cult. The church systematically drove all the magic out of the world. It saw nature and the rest of creation as just resources, with no other inherent rights or value, for humans to exploit. It used the nastier parts of its theology to wipe out time-tested bottom-up social structures (which worked) and replace them with top-down social controls (which exact a huge toll on the human psyche, because people aren’t aware of any other systems and thus don’t even know what’s wrong with their lives). I could go on and on.

Thus I am fascinated, as a storytelling proposition, with what might happen if you took a contemporary young man like Jake Janaway and set him down in the middle of a culture untouched by Christianity. I chose Scotland as a key setting, partly because I love and am somewhat familiar with the British Isles. It’s also the culture of Jake’s ancestors, as it is mine. The Scottish coast also is only a few days’ travel, by sea, from Gaul (France), and hence the Scottish elite are aware of, though at a safe distance from, the turmoil of Rome’s clash with the more pastoral cultures of North Atlantic Europe. Rome called them barbarians, not least because they wore trousers (which popes and some clerics still don’t wear). But I would argue that Rome was much more ruthless and violent than the barbarians.

I also would argue that, had Rome been less violent and less ruthless, Rome and the barbarians eventually would have come to terms. Even in the first and second centuries B.C., the barbarian tribes were turning away from raiding as the centerpiece of their economies and were happy to produce things of value and trade with Rome instead. The tribes wanted Rome’s wine and luxury goods. Rome wanted commodities like tin and copper — and slaves. Rome required a constant input of slaves by the tens of thousands to drive its economy. Calling them barbarians made it much easier to excuse slaughtering and enslaving them. Even in the 19th Century United States, the church split over slavery. The evangelicals of the Southern Baptist Church, a major supporter of today’s Republican Party, split again in the 1960s over Civil Rights. It is only one of many of the moral failures of Christianity and the Roman politics that tends to revolve around it.

Anyway, if you lived on the coast of Scotland in 48 B.C., and if you were very lucky, you just might live in a broch. The brochs were fortifications, certainly, intended to protect the occupants from raids. They marked status. They almost certainly were watch towers and beacons. The brochs were situated so that a beacon fire at the top of a broch could be seen from the next broch, which could relay the signal onward. A system of flags, I suspect, also was used.

Not a great deal is known about the interior of the brochs (the timbers long ago decomposed), and it’s hotly debated by archeologists. They might have been roofed — or not. There were no exterior windows, so I am skeptical of how wise it would be to roof the entire broch, since it would always be dark inside. If I built a broch, I’d roof it partly, to let in some light. The double stone walls were mortarless. Between the walls there were stone stairs, and, depending on the size of the broch, chambers. There were windows in the inner walls facing the enclosed courtyard.

Obviously Jake is going to spend some time in a broch in the sequel to Fugue in Ursa Major. There will be a thriving community around this broch. Jake will be able to learn quite a lot from them about what life was like for the Scottish Celts in 48 B.C. Much of this, of course, will of necessity be a project of imagination, but a great deal of it is based on a good two years of research and stacks of books that I don’t have any shelves for. Jake also will get swept up in what is going on in Gaul.

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Huperzine-A

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By the way, this is 1,004th post in the Into the Woods blog.

In the past, I have mentioned one of my heros (or heroines, if you wish) — Rita Levi-Montalcini. Italians affectionately called her “La Professoressa.” She was a Nobel laureate. She discovered nerve growth factor back in the 1980s and in 1986 won the Nobel Prize in Medicine. She died in December 2012 at the age of 103.

My favorite interview with La Professoressa is now behind a paywall. But in the interview (I believe she was 98 or 99 at the time), she was asked how she managed to remain so active, with such a young mind. She said that it was because she took nerve growth factor. Nerve growth factor, as I recall, is manufactured in small quantities in Italy, where it is used to treat certain eye disorders. It is not available in the United States. At the age of 98 or 99, La Professoressa said that her mind was sharper than it had been in her twenties. She still worked in her lab every day.

This naturally got me thinking about how it might be possible to acquire some nerve growth factor. I never found a way, but sources pointed to something similar — Huperzine-A. It’s natural and is derived from an Asian moss. There isn’t as much research on Huperzine as I’d like, but the research that has been done is promising for anything having to do with neurological degeneration such as Alzheimer’s. It seemed likely that Huperzine would be helpful to anyone who’s getting older.

At the time I started taking Huperzine-A, Ken was here. As you know if you’ve read Ken’s book, he’s a smart guy. Sitting across from his young mind at breakfast and dinner every day is a challenge. My 63-year-old mind would sometimes forget things (names and nouns in particular). Sometimes I would tell him something that I’d already told him, and he would nicely let me know that I’d already told him that. I found that tremendously embarrassing.

After a couple of months on Huperzine, I asked Ken if I’d forgotten anything lately or repeated something I’d already told him. He thought for a second and said, “Why no, I don’t think you have.”

After I started taking Huperzine, I finished and published my novel. I lost 20 pounds (and have kept it off). I may certainly still have little memory lapses if I’m tired or distracted (forgetting the names of people I don’t know very well, for example). But I’d put my memory up against anyone’s. If you asked me how many clean coffee cups are in the cabinet, or for an inventory of what’s in the dishwasher at the moment, I’d probably get it right. I rarely misplace things. I don’t forget to shut the chickens up in the evening. I know what’s on my calendar.

The effect of Huperzine is subtle. It doesn’t feel like coffee or any kind of stimulant. In fact it actually lowers the heart rate. My resting pulse is rarely above 72, and if I’m really relaxed it’s in the 60s (though how low it goes varies with how much exercise I’ve been getting). Huperzine just makes you feel more focused and more able to concentrate. It won’t compensate for lack of sleep. Nothing does.

There are two side effects.

If you take it close too close to bedtime, it probably will give you insomnia with a racing mind. (Frankly, a racing mind in the middle of the night can be a good thing, if you don’t have to get up in the morning. The imaginative work I do for novel-writing mostly happens in the middle of the night, or while taking long walks. See Clark Strand’s new book Waking Up to the Dark: Ancient Wisdom for a Sleepless Age.)

Huperzine also will give you vivid dreams. When I read the Amazon reviews by people taking Huperzine, I thought they might be exaggerating the effect it has on dreams. But they weren’t. If you want to enhance the dream effect, take Huperzine close to bedtime. If you have good dreams, they’ll be very good. If you have a bad dream, it will be very bad. The dream effect, however, does tend to diminish over time. It’s most noticeable in the first days of taking Huperzine. It increases the complexity and vividness of dreams. I often hear music in my dreams. In a dream just last night, an organist was playing a fugue. I am quite sure that I heard all four voices of the fugue, as clearly as if I were at a live performance. I don’t know how the brain can render detailed visual and aural reality on the fly (in dreams, at least), but somehow it does. If you are prone to sleep paralysis, Huperzine probably will aggravate it.

Here’s an Amazon link for buying Huperzine, which I pass on with all possible disclaimers. You should read up on Huperzine before you try it. Read the Amazon reviews.

Huperzine appears to not have much effect on younger people (except for dreams). Younger people probably don’t need it. But I personally am convinced that it helps keep older minds sharp.

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The late Rita Levi-Montalcini

Another nice value wine

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While I’m thinking about wine, here’s another good value, from Trader Joe’s. For at least a couple of months now, Trader Joe’s has carried both a chardonnay and a cabernet from Liberté vineyards. That winemaker is in Paso Robles, which is in San Luis Obispo County in southern California. Both the chardonnay and the cabernet are $9.99.

Truth is, I never cared much for so-called “fine wines.” As the price of a bottle of wine rises, the increased quality either diminishes rapidly in line with the law of diminishing returns, or the value is entirely fictitious and is related to heightened demand, or snob appeal. I’m one of those people who see wine as food. I’d no more pay $40 for a bottle of wine than I’d pay $20 for a cauliflower. There’s not a thing in the world wrong with good country wine. I also don’t mess around much with weird varietals. When I’m shopping for wine, I go always look for honest, basic, fruity chardonnays and cabernets.

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Bonterra organic wines

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Back in the 1990s, when I was living in San Francisco, had a comfortable income, and had access to a deep cellar, I lived in the French mode, bought wine by the case, and fetched it from the cellar. A lot of the wine I bought was from Bonterra Organic Vineyards. Bonterra’s wines aren’t the sort of wines that will knock your socks off, but they’re good wines and a good value.

Now that I’m in North Carolina and now that retirement has suppressed my wine budget, I no longer buy wine by the case (though I probably should — it doesn’t really cost any more that way). I had not even seen a bottle of Bonterra wine in years. Imagine my surprise, then, at seeing several bottles of Bonterra organic chardonnay and cabernet in an ordinary country grocery store in Walnut Cove. I bought all the bottles that were on the shelf. The 2011 chardonnay was about $10 a bottle and the 2011 cabernet about $12.

I find this puzzling. How did organic wine from a not-very-large California vintner end up on a shelf in a country grocery store in North Carolina? I’m afraid that it probably means that the wine was not well reviewed, didn’t sell well, and got remaindered out to free up warehouse space. But I’m speculating.

Still, if you come across Bonterra wine, give it a try. I see from their web site that they have a wine club. I just might sign up. I have not yet opened the cabernet. The chardonnay is slightly watery though strong on alcohol, but it has good color and a nice, fairly soft chardonnay taste. In short, it’s perfectly fine for a $10 wine.

It occurs to me that I’ve not written about wines here often, mainly because retirement has cut into my wine budget. For the record, I am strongly of the opinion that California wines are the best in the world. I prefer wines from Sonoma County, but Napa and Mendocino will do.

Blacksnakes, in flagrante delicto

I’m not going to actually post these photos directly to the blog, because I think many people will find them frightening or disgusting, especially those who have a phobia of snakes. So, instead, below are links that you can click on if you really want to see the photos.

While doing chicken chores this afternoon, the lower bodies of two blacksnakes were hanging down through the trap door in the chickens’ two-level chicken house. I ran and grabbed the camera, and the snakes were still at it when I came back. I am fairly snake phobic myself, but I’m becoming less so, as I accept the fact that snakes are an important part of the local ecology, and as I get used to seeing them. I’ve gotten pretty brave, as you can see just because I took these photos (with a 70mm lens). These X-rated photos shed a lot of light on snake anatomy and behavior.

Trigger alert! Do not view these photos if you have a phobia of snakes. These photos are rated X.

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Rural communities

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Earlier this week, I was asked to attend and shoot photos of a community gathering in northern Stokes County. The people there are concerned about the possible closing of the elementary school there. To them, the school is an important part of their community. To the school board and the county commissioners, the school is a budget problem in an era in which the county (like many rural counties) actually is losing population.

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The people strike back

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From time to time, when I think it is of general interest, I will post here about what I’m up to as a local political and environmental activist.

When I bought land in rural Stokes County, North Carolina, and built the abbey here, I did expect to have some involvement in the county’s civic life. I never guessed, though, that at times it would seem like a full-time job. I’m now chairman of the county’s Democratic Party. Three years ago, Ken and I helped start an environmental group called No Fracking in Stokes. This group has had its hands full, and many people say that it is the most effective grassroots environmental group in North Carolina.

The scenic Dan River runs through the foothills of Stokes County. Its headwaters lie in the Blue Ridge Mountains, in Meadows of Dan, Virginia. After weaving southward into North Carolina, the river meanders north again toward Danville, Virginia. (The river is about two miles from the abbey.) A shale basin lies underneath parts of the river, and geologists think that some (though probably not much) recoverable shale gas lies in this basin that could be gotten out with fracking. This was on no one’s radar screen until 2012, when North Carolina’s newly elected Republican legislature, stimulated largely by banking money out of Charlotte that found its way into Republican pockets, became hell bent on dragging North Carolina kicking and screaming into fracking.

Last night at a public meeting in the little town of Walnut Cove, people were too polite to kick and scream. But they were mad as hell, and they fired high-calibre volleys across the bow of the Walnut Cove town board, which at its previous meeting had voted to allow geologists from North Carolina’s Department of Environment and Natural Resources to do sample core drilling on the town’s property. Though it’s true that the issue had been on the board’s agenda and was posted on the town hall door or something, the larger truth is that the board was trying to sneak it through in the dark of night. A reporter for our local weekly newspaper reported it, and people were quickly up in arms. The next meeting of the board was packed. In fact, the town’s fire marshall had to prevent more people from entering the building. A bunch of windows were opened in the old frame building (which used to be a school for black children), and the overflow crowd was allowed to stand outside and look in.

A retired schoolteacher told me that, as a nervous mayor was opening windows, the mayor saw a sheriff’s deputy standing outside and said, “Are you the only one here?” The deputy replied, “I’ve got backup.”

There is a well established African-American community in Walnut Cove. They live mostly in two neighborhoods. The test well is to be drilled in one of those neighborhoods. The African-American community is angry because they weren’t consulted.

To make the situation even more dangerous, if fracking comes to the Dan River shale basin, it would be dangerously close to a huge coal ash impoundment at Duke Energy’s Belews Creek Steam Station. A breach of the 130-foot dam there probably would wipe out the nearby community of Pine Hall, and the ash would certainly spill into the Dan River.

Few things warm my heart more than people talking back to government when government does what big money wants rather than what the people want. It’s unclear at this time whether the Walnut Cove town board will — or even legally can — rescind its decision. But one thing is for sure. The people will pay them back at the next election, and the county’s Democratic Party will do everything possible to help them with that payback.

For those who would like more information on our environmental battles here in North Carolina, below are some newspaper links. You also are invited to join our Facebook group, No Fracking in Stokes.

Winston-Salem Journal

The Stokes News

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Commingled recycling

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Sign on a county recycling container

Some time back, the county I live in changed its recycling system. In the old system, stuff had to be carefully sorted. For example, green, brown and clear glass had to be kept separate. Plastics, aluminum, and cardboard had to be separated. Steel cans, junk mail, and paper milk cartons were not recyclable at all.

Then everything changed. All the bins were relabeled with no fanfare, no explanation, and no public announcement, as far as I know. Now all glass went into the same place, regardless of color. Everything else could be “commingled,” and dumped willy nilly into the same bin.

I was very skeptical of this new system. It’s obvious that if all that commingled stuff truly was recycled, then somewhere down the line a huge amount of labor would be required to separate everything. I finally got around to making changes in my recycling chores and bins at home to reflect the new system. While I was at it, I did some Googling to try to figure out how commingled recycling can work.

It’s legit. In fact, depending on where you live, you’ve probably had it for ages. It does require a huge amount of labor and machinery downstream. The reason for the move to commingled recycling, I’m guessing, was to make it easier for people and thus to encourage recycling.

If you Google, you’ll find videos of these industrial sorting systems. Some of it is automated. The machinery can sort some stuff based on weight, or by using magnets, or by blowing things with puffs of air. But it also requires a lot of human labor. Humans are stationed along the conveyor belts, picking stuff out and throwing it in bins.

Apparently even junk mail is recyclable with the new systems. Small pieces of cardboard (beer cartons, for example) can be happily commingled, it seems. But our recycling depots here still prefer that large cardboard boxes be broken down and kept separate.

The new commingled recycling systems, now that I have a better understanding of how they work, should help me improve my trash to recycling ratio and simplify my container situation at home. Here in the sticks, where we have to drive our own trash and recyclables to county depots, some storage and organization is required at home. Sometime I would like to measure my compost to trash to recyclables ratio. But I already know that, by far, my trash portion is the smallest.

Egg-testing a “green” pan

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The butter is a little brown not because I overheated it but because I had cooked a Trader Joe’s fake sausage before cooking the egg.

Six or seven years ago, I bought some nonstick Calphalon pans from Williams Sonoma. They were on sale, but they were still pricey. They were said to be dishwasher safe. For several years, they worked great. But now they’ve mostly lost their nonstick qualities, and using them is a lot like cooking with cast iron.

I would have guiltily written this off to putting them in the dishwasher and not taking proper care of them, but from doing some reading it appears that all nonstick pans eventually stop working. Good pots and pans should last a lifetime or longer — except, apparently, for nonstick pans. So if a pan is going to last for only five or six or seven years, then why pay Calphalon prices?

While I was on the lookout for replacements, so-called “green” pans with a white ceramic coating caught my eye. They are moderately priced, just above the level of cheap. Some Googling and reading finds that, though they greatly reduce the toxic substances in nonstick coatings, they still may not be entirely free of toxins. These pans generally get pretty good reviews. The small pan I bought is clearly marked as not safe for dishwashers. And clearly it should never be used on high heat. At least while new, it does a fine job of cooking eggs.

The egg in the photo, by the way, was picked up from the chicken house about 10 minutes before I cooked it. I did not feed the chickens yesterday, forcing them to forage in their woods lot and in the grass of the orchard. Chickens eating greens makes for really golden egg yolks. When the girls are first let out in the morning, they immediately go for chickweed and clover. Though it comes back to me indirectly, I do get some nutrition out of that delicious-looking organic grass in the orchard.